It doesn't often snow, but tonight great flakes of snow drift down over the city, catching the lights of street lamps and buildings. The effect is softening: the metal and concrete transform into something almost magical, precious, like the weather is performing a particularly tricky piece of alchemy on the landscape.
Ran lets one hand rest against the cool window pane, allowing himself to feel for this moment the tender regret catching at his heart. Eventually the snow will melt and this particular magic will be gone, but nothing will change for him, for—
That regret, at least, he tries to ignore.
Gingetsu's footsteps sound quietly behind him, bare feet padding a slow beat against the wooden floorboards. His hand is gentle when it touches Ran's shoulder. Gingetsu doesn't speak, but his presence is comforting. He tilts his head as if to offer himself as a willing listener, if Ran should need to talk.
Ran drops his hand from the window, brings up it up to squeeze Gingetsu's briefly. He smiles, though it is fragile at best. "I'm fine."
"Come to bed?" Gingetsu suggests, but Ran knows Gingetsu will understand when he shakes his head.
"I'd like to watch the snow a while longer."
Gingetsu draws closer, and his lips brush against Ran's hair. "Would you like company?"
Ran's smile comes easier this time. "If you'd like."
Even this, settling back against Gingetsu's chest to watch the dance of snow against the lights, is fleeting. But for now, Gingetsu is warm, the view is interesting, and the night is enticingly long. Daylight will come soon enough, but Ran has long since learned to enjoy the moment while it lasts.